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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28925934">She's a Demon (actually)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondKisses/pseuds/AlmondKisses'>AlmondKisses</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Friday Night Funkin' (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>College, Curse Breaking, Curses, Demonic Possession, Demons, Don't Read This, Drug Use, F/M, Gun Violence, Karaoke, Music, Not Beta Read, Romance, Tobacco use, lol, trigger warning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:20:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28925934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondKisses/pseuds/AlmondKisses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>BF met her in an alley. No, that wasn't a joke. He took the wrong turn and met a pretty woman in red, who said to him:</p><p>"You should come to my dad's karaoke club, cutie."</p><p>So what the hell was he supposed to do? Say no?</p><p>Surprise, surprise, come to find out, it wasn't a normal karaoke club at all. No one would believe BF if he lived to tell the story.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boyfriend/Girlfriend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>181</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Is This the College Experience?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love Friday Night Funkin' so far and decided to take a crack at making a story out of it. Can I write? Not really! But I hope you still like it anyway. Keep freakin and funkin, friday night funkin crowd.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When BF entered his high school for the last time, people surrounded him in swarms, yelling over each other. Families, teachers, and friends of kids that were about to graduate all blended into a blur he didn't try to make out. Even when they all got silently settled inside the small, old gymnasium, sweat dripping inside their gowns, and the band played "Pomp and Circumstance", he didn't bother looking for anyone he recognized. He already knew that no one was here for him, that there would be silence when he made it onto that flimsy stage.</p><p>But even when he was right and there was awkward silence when his name was called, it felt freeing. He shook his principal's hand, grabbed his diploma, and just like that, it was over. For the first time outside of these walls, outside of this city, he would have the life he wanted.</p><p>The college he applied to was a couple states away. He chose it because, one, it was one of the only school's that would accept his GPA, but two, it was where he didn't know anyone, and no one knew him. No one to point fingers at him and tell him who he is. That was for him decide.</p><p>The ceremony was over, now -- he threw his cap in the air, didn't bother picking it up. Kids around him scattered to the bleachers. He turned and left immediately, stepped into the parking lot, stripped off his gown and breathed in the refreshing night air.</p><p>Then three months later he was packing his things into his wrecked station wagon, saying goodbye to Mom who, frankly, he could tell was trying to hide her relief that he was leaving, and then he was off. There were no trumpets, no tears, just the sputter of his car's engine, old rap music blasting on his radio, and the spark of his lighter as he lit a cigarette.</p><p>It took him days to arrive. Suburban houses and fenced-in yards turned into apartments and narrow streets. Groups of college kids dotted these streets, going into corner stores, lining up at food trucks, and taking photos together. It didn't truly hit him how different everything was going to be until now. For the first time in his life, he felt happy.</p><p>As soon as he parked his car and unpacked his luggage into his dorm -- strangely without his roommate, but his roommate was probably going to hate him eventually, so BF didn't really care -- he dressed into his favorite outfit that always managed to start up conversations: red hat, red shoes, jeans, and a t-shirt with a cancel sign. After one last cigarette and some cologne in hopes of hiding it, he started his journey downtown. He didn't really know where he was going, he just knew that he was hungry. He Googled for places nearby, and luckily for him, there was a good-looking burger place only a couple minutes away.</p><p>As he walked, the city both excited and overwhelmed him. His hometown was nothing like this. Everything here was so...tall, so bright. Even with how short he was, he swore the tallest person would be intimated by all these towering buildings, with their seemingly endless amount of windows. And despite how late it was, so many of them were lit. Except for the moon in the dark sky, the city kept going on like it was twelve in the afternoon: signs begged him to enter, food trucks were beacons in the night, and streetlights lit his way around them all. He resolved to keep looking down at his phone to make sure he wouldn't be entranced into spending all his pocket money.</p><p>That was when the trouble started. He couldn't read a map for the life of him and his ten-minute trip was turning into a fifty-minute one. His surroundings became quieter, darker, and then BF realized he wasn't on the main streets anymore. He was so focused on the weight of his feet more than anything else that when he looked up and saw an almost completely dark alley, he jumped.</p><p>A single streetlight flickered above him. No one was around. Brick walls flanked his back and front, and a seemingly endless road laid to his left and right. Compared to the loudness of the main road, the silence was deafening.</p><p>Well, there was no choice but to choose a way. BF chose his right and started walking. Maybe it leaned more toward a run.</p><p>
  <em>"Hey..."</em>
</p><p>BF stopped, looked around. That was definitely not his imagination.</p><p>"Who's out here?" he asked. He didn't really expect anyone to be intimidated by his higher-pitched voice, but if he had to choose to fight, then he would. But no response came. So he kept going.</p><p>
  <em>"HEY..."</em>
</p><p>The voice was louder and BF didn't stop this time, running as fast as his little legs could carry him. Fear replaced the hunger in his stomach and he felt it drop as the voice kept getting louder: <em>"HEY...! HEY...! HEY...! HE--</em></p><p>--BF hit something, stumbled over it. He scrambled back up and was ready to start running again, but curiosity made him turn his head. And he froze.</p><p>The "something" he hit was a girl. A beautiful girl. Well, she was currently keeled over on the ground from pain, but BF knew she was beautiful anyway. Her brown hair, complimenting her red dress, fell around her shoulders like a fluffy cloud he could fall into, and when she looked up at him and still managed to smile, BF felt his heart beat out of his chest and his blood rush in his ears. </p><p>"Oh my God, are you okay?" BF asked and offered her a hand. She nodded, took it and pulled herself up. BF felt something he could only describe as electricity when her soft hand squeezed his.</p><p>"I'm okay!" she said. "Don't worry."</p><p>And even though BF just met her, he was relieved. The dark alley seemed a lot more brighter than any streetlamp could ever make it, less intimidating with her around. But at the same time, he felt paralyzed. He couldn't find any words. He was unsure of what to do.</p><p>"Are you okay, dear?" she asked. "You're sweating a little." And she laughed. She definitely knew how nervous he was, no doubt. BF's face has never been so hot, and he was sweating more than just a little: he’s never felt this much sweat pool in his palms or pour down his back and belly. He tried and started to speak a sentence many, many times but each time, nothing came.</p><p>"How about this?" she said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a sticky note. BF stared at her, somehow memorized by the way she wrote, by the red polish on her nails. "You should come to my dad's karaoke club, cutie."</p><p>She handed him the note with a smile. It was written in red pen, in a cute cursive handwriting.</p><p>
  <em>(XXX) XXX - XXXX</em>
</p><p>
  <em>515 Friday St</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Call me!! - GF</em>
</p><p>And when BF looked up, GF was already walking away in the opposite direction, waving goodbye. An uncontrollable giddiness made his lips curl into a smile he knew probably looked goofy, but he waved back with vigor regardless. She laughed and blew him a kiss, then she disappeared into the shadows. If it wasn't for the note he was holding, he wouldn't have believed it actually happened. Maybe someone had drugged him and this was all a hallucination.</p><p>Covered in sweat and scrapes, BF didn't really feel hungry anymore and went back home. Too busy replaying what just happened to pay attention to his surroundings, it almost felt like he teleported from the alley to the front of his dorm. Did he still have the note? He frantically patted his pockets, felt the note, and clutched it in relief. Then he dug for his key and unlocked the dorm.</p><p>A wave of the familiar scent of good ol' Mary Jane hit him and he coughed, trying to wave it away. In the opposite bed was a dude dressed in green, moving boxes and luggage surrounding him, and a definitely fire-hazardous number of candles lit around the room. He took a hit, exhaled. He paused. Finally he realized BF was there.</p><p>"Hey, I'm Pico," he said, voice gravelly. "Your roommate."</p><p>"BF."</p><p>"Nice to fucking meet ya," and he took another hit. “Want some?”</p><p>"...Yeah, sure."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Make sure to go to college for an education! And keep on living life, funky reader</p><p>((EDIT EDIT: Rewrote this chapter: nothing harmful, tone changed to fit rest of the story, and an opening scene. Thank you.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Karaoke Club (?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>BF makes it to the karaoke club. It was all going great, until...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for sticking around for chapter two! I realized that last chapter I kind of paragraph dumped so I tried to break it up a little this chapter. I hope it's not too jarring of a difference. I'd appreciate any feedback if you have any! Again, thanks for reading!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Nope."</p><p>Pico swiped left on his phone.</p><p>"Big nope," BF said. And his roommate Pico swiped left again.</p><p>"No." Swipe.</p><p>"Uh uh." Swipe.</p><p>"NOOO." Swipe.</p><p>Pause.</p><p>"Wait," said BF. "Have you even gotten a match, yet?"</p><p>"I don't fucking know!" yelled Pico and he jumped off the couch, dragging his hands down his face.</p><p>It was the first morning ever since BF's moved to college and the first morning since that girl in the red dress gave him her number. Pico didn't believe a single word of his story. Granted, it was the first conversation they've ever had and they were both baked, so BF didn't blame him and he even started doubting himself it even happened, but when they woke up the next morning and the high wore off, he reached into his pants pocket and lo and behold, the note was still there. Pico, a bit pissed off, quickly downloaded Tinder, and now here they were.</p><p>"I don't get it." Pico flopped back down on the couch and picked his phone back up, frowning at the screen. "Why the hell can't I just come with you?"</p><p>"It's her dad's place, man," BF answered. "And if I walk in with you, there's probably gonna be some questions."</p><p>"Oh, like fucking what? <em>Ar</em><em>e those two</em> <em>dating?</em>" Pico's voice raised to an impressive squeak. "Or maybe," his voice dropped back to its normal bass, "you're afraid of some competition. Maybe she'll choose me instead of you."</p><p>"Dude, she hasn't even met you."</p><p>"So what?" He flipped him off. "I'm hot as shit. Fuck you."</p><p>And Pico started swiping again.</p><p>Despite his hostility, he might be right. Just in case things went south or BF got nervous and got cold feet, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have someone with him. When they smoked last night Pico managed to outshine BF's story with many stories of his own: many strange...violent ones. So he knew that Pico could stand his ground.</p><p>"Well, then, when’re ya going, tiger?" Pico sighed. He was on his back now, arms holding his phone up. BF groaned from the other side of the couch and put his elbow on the armchair.</p><p>"I texted her and she wants me to go Friday night. And for some reason, she really emphasized Friday night. Not any other one."</p><p>"Huh? That's fucking weird. You about to join a cult or something?" Pico turned over, still not looking up from his phone. "Or maybe you're into that shit. Pervert."</p><p>Come to think of it, the theme with Friday was hard to ignore.</p><p><em>Make sure to come on Friday night or I won't be there ;)!!</em> GF had texted him. <em>Not any other night, okay? It has to be Friday, sugar!! &lt;3</em></p><p>It was a heartwarming message to wake up to post-high. But now that he's actually awake and he's had the chance to read it over again, it seemed a bit...aggressive. Aggressively Friday. Aggressive in a way that if the text was a person, it'd have him in a chokehold with a dainty smile on its face. Then, when he went to go check the note for the club's address, he noticed that the street it was on was even named "Friday Street".</p><p>Man, you can't make this up. If he thought of the word Friday one more time, he might puke.</p><p>But then he remembered when she handed him the note, how bright her smile was, and a warm flutter kicked through him. He recalled her soft laugh, how smooth her hands felt, how endearing her wink was. He's known this girl for only a day and he was already head over heels for her. Maybe this was her trick? To get him to join the Friday Cult?</p><p>"Maybe I am into it," laughed BF. </p><p>And that was the end of it for the next couple of days. He sent her back an <em>Okay! :) </em>and she sent back a <em>&lt;3</em>, and he was too afraid to say anything after.</p><p>Up until Friday he spent most of his time with Pico, venturing out during the day and smoking up at night. They found places to eat (BF finally got to eat from the burger place he got lost trying to find), found random people mulling about and spent time with them, and they even pointed out buildings they'd have their classes in when they began next week. They practically managed to explore the entire town.</p><p>So when Friday night hit and they finally went to the karaoke club, BF stood before it, stared at it in awe, swore that it hadn't been there before.</p><p>An ominous, simple glowing sign reading <strong>KARAOKE </strong>greeted them above a single metal door, flickering rapidly. There was a small window, but a curtain blocked the inside, and no matter how hard BF stared at it, he couldn't see anything. Compared to the rest of the bustling town this street was much darker and much quieter -- people passed in singles, hands in pockets, hoods up, heads down. BF felt his stomach flip and a little déjà vu from the night he found the alley.</p><p>Pico elbowed him. "We going in or not?" he asked.</p><p>Well, they couldn't turn back now.</p><p>He pushed open the door. </p><p>An upbeat, groovy song and people cheering, chatting, whooping and hollering blasted through the air, thrumming against his eardrums. An astonishing wonder grasped him and he took in his surroundings, the inside surprisingly much bigger than the outside: a large stage where assumedly the karaoke took place lined the back wall, and an open floor with a crowd of dancers sat to its front. Those who weren't dancing or singing were relaxing at tables or sitting at the bar, happily chattering. Any dread BF felt before was replaced with joy and an indescribable urge to dance to the music bumping through him.</p><p>"This place ain't half bad," Pico mused, grinning and glancing around. "Where's the chick who invited ya?"</p><p>Come to think of it, he didn't see her anywhere. He checked his phone but there were no texts or missed calls. He went to dial her, but then a chirping voice called out to them:</p><p>"Hello, you two!"</p><p>Pico and BF looked up and saw a taller figure approaching them, his arms crossed but expression welcoming with a toothy grin. BF looked at Pico questioningly and he shrugged. Neither of them has ever seen him before. When the man reached them and started shaking their hands, they were incredibly confused, but they shook his hand back anyway.</p><p>"What are your names?" the man asked. Pico and BF gave each other an awkward glance.</p><p>"I'm BF, and this is Pico."</p><p>"Ah! BF and Pico, a pleasure," and he shook their hands again, more enthusiastic, so much that they could both feel their brains still rattling when he let go. "What brings you here?"</p><p>And BF asked himself: should he be honest? Maybe it would give him the chance to ask if he's seen her. The man looked much older than him or her or anyone here, granted, but with the way he's acted so far, he seems like he might've introduced himself to everyone regardless.</p><p>"I'm actually here to meet someone," BF said. "Her name is GF. Have you seen her?"</p><p>As soon as the words left his mouth, BF swore that the man's face dropped for just a split second. It was a bit hard to tell but he definitely was straining his grin now, crossing his arms harder. Did he say something wrong?</p><p>"GF?" he deadpanned. "My daughter?"</p><p>Shiiiit. He should've known. This man was too old to be here for fun. He even could see some of GF in him: his eyes were the same amber, skin the same peach. It's been ten minutes since he's arrived, and he's already fucked up.</p><p>"...Yes, sir," he said.</p><p>And the man paused and said nothing. BF felt a hundred times smaller under his stare, felt his stomach drop to his knees. Pico started snickering next to him and had to cover his mouth to stop it.</p><p>"Well," the man sighed. "Fine. She's over there."</p><p>He pointed to where the tables were and in a table in the middle of the rest, sure enough GF was sitting there, happily chatting to a waiter, inaudible. BF felt his heart swell when she laughed so hard that she knocked over her drink, and then laughed about that, too.</p><p>"What are you waiting for?" the man spat, and he turned and walked away. BF had a feeling he would see him again.</p><p>A whoosh escaped BF's lungs as he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Next to him Pico had burst into complete laughter, keeled over and pounding his fist on his knee.</p><p>"C'mon!" BF lightly punched him. "Let's go."</p><p>Pico chuckled for a bit longer and wiped his tears away. Together they shoved themselves through throngs of people and past seas of chairs before finally making it to GF. She was eating something. When they got close enough, she peeked up from her plate and waved them down enthusiastically, mouth full, sauce covering her mouth and fingers. Somehow, it made her cuter.</p><p>"Damn, she's hot," Pico said, and BF couldn't help but feel both a twinge of jealousy, and a bit amused that he thought the same.</p><p>The smell of chicken wings filled BF's nose as they both sat down across from GF. She cleaned herself up and patted down her dress, the same one she wore when BF first met her, the captivating red one. Somehow he was more nervous now, in a crowded place with moral support from Pico, than he was in the dark, dank, empty alley. He thanked whoever decided to make the lights dim because he was sure that by the end of this encounter, he would be drenched.</p><p>"You made it!" GF sang, and she grabbed BF's hands and kissed them, making him yelp and jump. She chuckled at his reaction. Then she turned and smiled at Pico, waving to him. "Oh, hi! Who might you be?"</p><p>"Name's Pico," he said. "I'm his roommate. Hey, you ever get tired of that bastard, I'm always free. Ow!"</p><p>"He's joking," BF said, laughing dryly. Pico scowled and rubbed his arm where he had hit him.</p><p>"Of course, of course," GF said, laughing too.</p><p>The three of them partied throughout the night. They sat for a bit longer, telling stories and cracking jokes, eating chicken wings until they physically couldn't anymore, then suddenly GF shot out of her seat, yelled, "Let's dance!" and pulled them both out into the crowd of people. A song from the early 2000s blasted over the speakers. There were so many people enveloping BF that they pushed him like bumper cars, throwing heat and the smell of alcohol over him. He loved it.</p><p>"So you gonna sing or what?!" GF's voice called out, and BF stopped doing the sprinkler to see her dancing next to him, playfully bumping him.</p><p>And BF smiled, nodded at her, thought about it. In all honesty, he's always loved music, loved to sing, but he's never explored that love. The farthest he's ever gone was singing along to his car radio, or maybe the choir class he was required to take in grade school. When Soundcloud got popular he almost considered making one, then one day his friends all sat around a computer and made fun of the kids who already had, and he forced himself to laugh with them, pretended that something didn't die within him. He didn't want to be a "Soundcloud rapper", a "band kid", or grow up to be a depressed dad, singing in a sad garage band with other depressed dads. Kids saw him as a troublemaker, sure. But he swore to never embarrass himself.</p><p>"I don't know," BF said. "Maybe."</p><p>GF cheered "yay!" and hugged him, twirled him around, let him go and spun him under the strobe lights. Her smile and enthusiasm struck his heart and made his legs weak, made him struggle to stand.</p><p>Fine. Tonight, he would sing just for her.</p><p>"Okay, okay!" GF let him go and clapped her hands quickly. "I'm going to the bathroom. Don't you dare start without me!"</p><p>And then she was off, pushing quickly through the other dancers. BF couldn't help but stare after her, feeling his mood drop dramatically without her around.</p><p>He stood there, immobilized, waiting for her to get back. A pair of fingers snapped in his face.</p><p>"Hellooo? Are ya there, lover boy?"</p><p>BF shook his head and suddenly Pico was in front of him, laughing.</p><p>"I'm gonna get something to drink, you want anything?"</p><p>"Juice," BF blurted.</p><p>"Juice?!" Pico repeated, laughing harder. "Alright, then. What kind you want?"</p><p>And while BF thought about it, the lights suddenly snapped on, blinding him. All around people stopped dancing, grumbled, annoyed. Then a microphone's feedback screeched out over the music and everyone yelled and cried out. If someone were about to sing or something, this was not a good first impression.</p><p>"Ladies and gentlemen!" a rich, deep voice growled. "Thank you for coming on this beautiful Friday night!"</p><p>The music cut out. The crowd went silent. Pico and BF looked towards the voice and it shocked them to see GF's father on stage, microphone in hand and an unsettling, wicked grin on his face. His voice had dropped in tone tremendously than before, and when he spoke his words came out a sickly-evil singsong, like a Disney villain about to announce his evil plans. Was that really him? BF felt nauseous and almost thought of cutting out to the bathrooms with GF, but curiosity anchored him in place.</p><p>"According to my watch!" GF's father made a show out of pulling his sleeve down and tapping his wristwatch. "The time is now 9:55. At 10 o'clock, for those of you who don't know, comes a very fun surprise." </p><p>His eyes locked with BF's briefly and BF swore that it wasn't an accident. They gleamed over the crowd where disturbed murmurs had erupted: countless confused "What?"s and "Huh?"s and indistinct, worried chatter filled the room. A hand pulled at BF's sleeve, and when he turned, he realized that it was Pico's. There was a desperation in his face he never thought he would ever see from him.</p><p>"BF," he hurriedly whispered, "we have to get the <em>fuck</em> out of here. That chick's great and all, but her dad is nuts, man, shit's not worth it--"</p><p>--a loud <em>CLUNK!</em>cut him off. The crowd went silent again. Neither of them could really see what it was past all the people, but BF could guess, and he prayed to whatever god was out there that it wasn't true.</p><p>Then a voice yelled out:</p><p>"The doors are locked! We're trapped!" </p><p>Panicked screams ensued. Stampedes of people rushed to the exit. BF whirled his head back and forth, heaving for air, adrenaline rushing through his veins and fear fogging his mind. GF's father's laughter ominously boomed above it all.</p><p>“This way, damn it!” Pico screamed and he made a run for it. BF started after him, but then he remembered:</p><p>GF was still in the bathroom.</p><p>He turned and darted the opposite direction without thinking. People rushed past and he elbowed them one after another, their bodies bumping him left and right, and BF stumbled through their blurs as the fog clouding his mind bleared his eyesight. </p><p>Eventually he squeezed and popped out into the hallway with the bathrooms. The women's door towered over him and he bravely shoved it open, slamming it so hard it banged against the tile wall.</p><p>All the stall doors were closed. He called out, voice echoing, "GF?! Where are you?!" </p><p>"BF?"</p><p>A toilet flushed. GF meekly walked out of the stall.</p><p>"Sorry I took so long, sugar. I kinda had to, uh..."</p><p>"That's not important," BF urgently approached her. "We have to go, c'mon!"</p><p>"Wait, but I didn't wash my hands!"</p><p>BF grabbed her wrist and GF yelped, her heels clicking against the floor disproportionately as they bolted out the door. Her father said it was 9:55 about a couple minutes ago, so if they hurried, they still could have a chance--!</p><p>But it was too late. The clock hit 10, and the nightmare begun.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Uh oh, it's going down...</p><p>I had a lot of fun writing this one!! Have a good rest of your day, bye!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Sour Tune</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The chaos begins. BF was sure he'd be dead by now.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey again!! Sorry that it took me a bit to write this time around, online classes are kind of kicking my butt right now. But I finally played Week 6 and I was like man, this is pretty baller, so I got inspired to write this again lol. Hope you enjoy! And thank you for the kind comments, they make my day!!</p><p>WARNING: The fanfic's rating has changed from Teen to Mature.</p><p>****TW: GUN VIOLENCE****</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>BF tried desperately to block out his surroundings and come up with an actual plan of escape, but with all his senses being overloaded with some sort of despair, his thoughts were scrambling and tripping over themselves.</p><p>Everything had gone to ruin. The floor was destroyed, covered in broken glass and overturned tables. Where partygoers were once being loud and enjoying themselves were now their hollow bodies, aimlessly roaming and rummaging, moaning in anguish, souls gone and eyes empty.</p><p>There was nowhere to go.</p><p>Next to him, GF stared doe-eyed around her, speechless, afraid. She worriedly bit her nails with one hand and grasped BF with the other, her grip so strong in his hand that it hurt. He gently stroked his thumb against hers in an attempt to calm her, but to no avail.</p><p>A gunshot went off. Echoed, boomed like thunder.</p><p>BF yanked GF back into the hall. His eyes jumped from body to body, looking for the gun, any wounded, any sign of where it came from, but there was nothing. He looked towards the stage for GF's father, but he was nowhere to be found.</p><p>Another unseen gunshot cracked, and this time BF heard a zombie cry. Then another. Then three more, all in succession.</p><p>Not wanting to be trapped in the bathrooms, BF quickly looked for somewhere else on the floor to hide. He landed on the bar and without a second thought made a run for it. More gunshots went off as they recklessly ran past zombies. They slid under the table like a baseball player sliding to home base, and the hardwood floor left their skin burning even as they got settled. Together they huddled under the counter, BF hugging GF, GF trembling, covering her ears, quietly sobbing into his chest.</p><p>BF stared at the bottles in front of him as he held her. He found peace with death, with himself. He did some stupid and bad things in his life, but he was glad that he tried to turn it around. He was glad that he was able to have one last memorable night, and that he would at least die with GF there with him. As for Pico...he wondered if he was one of those poor souls out there, if he had been shot already. Maybe it was less painful that way.</p><p>The gunshots ceased. BF froze. His ears rung and his eyes screwed shut as he struggled to make out something, anything. Then, just, just barely, he heard footsteps approaching, but was too late to react -- when he opened his eyes, staring straight back at him was the black pit of a gun's barrel. His breath hitched; his stomach dropped. Very, very slowly, the barrel, shaking, gradually moved upwards, then hardly pressed into his forehead. Behind it, standing there, was...</p><p>"Pico?"</p><p>"Shut your goddamn mouth," he snarled.</p><p>And shut his mouth, BF did. It wasn't as obvious as what had happened to the other partygoers, but there was something different about Pico, too. The most obvious change BF noticed was in his eyes: instead of bright green, his eyeballs were completely blanked over, straight white, irises and pupils gone. They held no sliver of regret. When Pico shifted his gaze onto GF, his face contorted into total contempt, forehead wrinkling, lips drawn back in a snarl. He whipped the gun to point at her.</p><p>"Where the fuck is your father?" he asked.</p><p>GF jumped in BF's arms, whimpered. Pico pushed the gun closer, yelled louder:</p><p>"I WON'T ASK AGAIN! WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!"</p><p>The next few moments happened in a flash: BF threw GF behind him; Pico pulled the trigger. BF's ears popped with a harsh pressure. He couldn't hear. Couldn't see. Couldn't breathe. He gasped, grabbed at his chest.</p><p>He woke up to someone shaking him.</p><p>When his vision finally adjusted, he was staring into GF's amber eyes, and, once she noticed he was conscious again, she stared back, gaze soft, kind. She let out a gentle sigh of relief, then let him gracefully fall back on the ground.</p><p>Suddenly BF realized that instead of hardwood, he was laying on uneven, cold concrete, something sharp stabbing into his back. He sat up, looked around.</p><p>They were outside. The chill of the night's air tickled goosebumps across his skin as he gawked at the parking area they were somehow teleported to. To his immediate right the railroad track that marked the outskirts of the city grazed the end of the lot, and in the distance indeed was his college town, whirrs of far-off traffic filling the air, the dusk sky a symphony of purples and magentas as the moon shone above it all.</p><p>"Where are we?" BF asked. GF frowned at him.</p><p>"I don't know where we were put, sugar," she said, "but I know what's happened to Pico."</p><p>"You do?"</p><p>GF didn't get a chance to respond before the sound of something shifting in gravel made them quickly turn their heads. There was Pico, stood across them. Speak of the devil. Fear reignited in BF, but a confusion slightly overpowered it: in Pico's hand that didn't have a gun interestingly held a microphone, and sat in their middle was a large set of speakers, so tall it towered over them all. An unsettling grin graced his face.</p><p>"I’m not Pico," he said. "But while I’m here, I might as well use him for revenge."</p><p>Whoever this was, whatever had overcome Pico, it had distorted his voice into a scratching growl, tinged with madness. He breathed heavily into his mic. The speaker disturbingly echoed it back. Then, the microphone screeched, the speakers blew out, and thunder cracked.</p><p>Something filled BF's hand. He looked down and saw a microphone of his own, his fingers gripping it tight, not allowing him to let go. He looked back up and GF was sat on top of the speakers, wiggling, trying to break free, but she was glued down. She turned and looked at him with straight panic.</p><p>"You have to sing, BF! Sing--"</p><p>Upbeat music cut her off, so loud and powerful that it shook the ground beneath their shoes and their brains in their skulls. BF meekly stood in anticipation, panic settling in his stomach. Sing, sing, sing. He must sing against him. It was, like...his old choir class, except instead of singing in a packed, sweaty school gymnasium, he was singing to his possessed roommate, freezing in a random parking lot.</p><p>Pico kicked off quickly. His words flowed effortlessly in quick, small bursts, shooting off one another, making BF both afraid and desperately wanting to dance.</p><p>
  <em>and 3 and... and, and, and 3 and... and.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>and 3 and... and, and, and 3 and... and.</em>
</p><p>He stopped. Stared at BF. Music awkwardly filled the empty space. GF was screaming something, but she was inaudible. BF wasn't sure what to do. Was he supposed to freestyle, or something?</p><p>Searing pain. Pain in his limbs, in his core, burning. BF cried out, he scrambled to sing back:</p><p>
  <em>and 3 and... and 3 and--!</em>
</p><p>Fuck!</p><p>Pain. Pain. Pain.</p><p>And Pico began again like nothing happened. His rhymes got more complicated, more intricate, switching between both short bursts and long tones. Each time BF waited for his turn, his mind raced to think of something to sing, and the rest of his body tensed to expect the pain.</p><p>Despite how poorly BF was doing, the music continued regardless. As he endured the battle, he noticed something changed. It was subtle, but through tears he saw the world shift and morph around him. It began with the moon, its milky white shine gradually darkening until it disappeared into the sky, leaving it an empty black. Lamps in skyscraper windows turned off, traffic vanished. Whatever was happening, BF noticed that along with it, Pico changed, too. His smile went evil, his eyes shot red. Soon he underwent a change into a monster much scarier than any of the lost souls back in the club. His teeth grew jagged, his ginger hair fell out, his skin became sickly and smelled rotten, spikes grew to cover him all over and poked through his clothes. His singing went from a deep bass into an even deeper wail, heavy and screeching but still managing to flow.</p><p>BF felt straight terror -- he wanted to scream, but his body couldn't manage a reaction out of him, struggling with the overwhelming pain. He felt ill, weak, frail.</p><p>Maybe, just maybe, it was time to give up.</p><p>He let go, lost consciousness.</p><p>An incredible energy flashed through him.</p><p>The energy kickstarted his soul and ignited it like a car engine, everything in him roaring to life with power so strong his body trembled trying to contain it. His touch came back first, the cold air comfortable now, refreshing, and he planted his feet into the ground, wiggled his tingling fingers against his microphone. He breathed in, and the smell of car exhaust and cold overwhelmed his nostrils so much that his eyes stung and shot open.</p><p>Everything was bright again. Pico was back to normal, GF wiggling on top of the speakers a second time. The sky was back to a sunset and the city was alive, its distant noise filling his ears again. Had he...traveled back in time?</p><p>Maybe, but this time he felt…different.</p><p>He felt...good.</p><p>He felt...<em>like kicking this guy's ass.</em></p><p>"What do I sing?!" he screamed at GF, and she whipped her head up, responded immediately:</p><p>"Sing what he does!"</p><p>And the music started again.</p><p>Pico grinned at him knowingly, almost as if he was aware of what had happened. BF felt no fear looking back at him this time. Rather, he felt confident. He couldn't help but grin back tenfold, smug, toothy and shit-eating.</p><p>BF found the tempo immediately, his head nodding easily to the rhythm, his foot tapping enthusiastically against the shaking ground. Pico started again: </p><p>
  <em>and 3 and... and, and, and 3 and... and.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>and 3 and... and, and, and 3 and... and.</em>
</p><p>BF responded immediately:</p><p>
  <em>and 3 and! and! and! and 3 and! and.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>and 3 and! and! and! and 3 and! and.</em>
</p><p>Pico cried out in pain. He was slow to start singing back. BF would never admit it, but it made him feel powerful. He did feel a bit guilty seeing his roommate, his friend, struggle so much, but he knew it wasn't him. He would get the real him back, no matter what it took.</p><p>The song continued. Rhymes that felt complicated before made perfect sense to BF now, and he easily sang them back, even adding his own creative twists at some point. When he noticed the world around him transforming again, it was a positive change this time, bringing about a bursting energy. Lamps in skyscrapers flashed in sync with the beats, turning different bright colors. The moon shone even brighter and illuminated GF, who bobbed her head along, smiling, even as trains flew past and threw her hair back. Pico's body didn't contort this time, but rather it began to tremble, grew smaller, and a slight trickle of white smoke began to escape his mouth.</p><p>He was almost done. BF needed to deal the finishing blow.</p><p>When Pico sang again, BF bravely started harmonizing with him, not even realizing at first. Pico sang short notes and BF layered over them with long tones. The tug of war they played was tense between the two, but from the outside, it was sweet to GF's ears.</p><p>Eventually Pico stopped singing, grit his teeth as BF switched from long tones and picked up his short ones. His body shook harder than ever before, and the small trickle of white smoke had turned into a steady flow spilling out between his lips.</p><p>BF sang the last note. The music continued a little longer, ended. Then the world quite literally collapsed around them, shattered like glass, and when BF blinked, they were all suddenly back in the club, right where they had left it.</p><p>Pico paled. He coughed out a large, dense, white cloud all at once, then dropped.</p><p>BF almost toppled over, too, but GF caught him. They both stared at Pico's body expectantly, anxious. As they waited, listening to Pico’s soft breath, BF realized just how quiet it was, and when he peeked over the table, he was surprised to see the floor completely clear: no zombies, no humans, everything clean and back in place.</p><p>Pico eventually came to, and when he opened his eyes, they were back to their normal green.</p><p>"What..." Pico groaned. "What the fuck happened?"</p><p>"Um...I'll explain later, sweetheart," GF said.</p><p>Pico gave her a weak thumbs up, then passed out again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't know why I made this chapter so edgy, so sorry, lol. I hope it wasn't too unbearable. Maybe quarantine is making me revert back to my emo Wattpad phase, who knows...see you next chapter!</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Daddy Dearest, Daughter Distressed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>GF reveals a dark secret. BF makes a major decision.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the slow update! Life's been a lot and I kind of struggled with writing, so I came out with this shorter filler to get something out. Now that it's done I'm happy to move on to more exciting parts. I promise I'll try to update faster from now on -- I'm also thinking of rewriting chapter 1 soon because I'm not too happy with it lol.</p><p>Thank you for reading! Stay funky</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>GF dipped the towel into the bowl of warm water, wringing it out before laying it back on Pico's forehead. They all were inside her home now, BF sat on one couch and Pico laying on the other, GF beside him. A large, open glass window displayed the city, bringing in a cool breeze. Golden rays peeked over an orange skyline as night quietly gave way to morning. On top of the honey lemon tea GF had brewed, it was almost peaceful.</p><p>"Are you feeling any better?" GF asked Pico, running her fingers through his hair. He nodded in response, but still looked a bit dazed as he did so, vacant eyes staring at the ceiling. She shook her head, pulled his blanket higher over him. Suddenly BF felt cold. It was awful, but a small part of him wished he were him right now. But, er, maybe without the scary part.</p><p>"I'm...real sorry," Pico croaked, slowly.</p><p>"For what?" asked GF. "You did nothing wrong, dear."</p><p>His eyebrows furrowed at her words. Those vacant eyes were full of thought now, memories of last night that BF was sure he didn't like.</p><p>"I don't remember everything, but I sure as hell remember the feeling. I was angry. Completely. Towards your bastard of a dad -- uh, no offense, of course. I don't know exactly what he did, but whatever was controlling me, it was out for him. I didn't mean to attack either of ya in the process. Sorry."</p><p>GF was quick to comfort him: whispers and coos and head pats, and Pico managed a weak smile. BF tried to shake off his feelings, took a sip of tea. It hugged his taste buds and pleasantly warmed his throat, and it made him feel a little better.</p><p>"What happened to him, GF?" he finally asked. When she turned to face him, her eyes were so sorrowful, frown so stressed, a pang of guilt punched him so hard that he had to avert his eyes. He took another sip, but it didn't hit quite the same.</p><p>"I..." she started, but then she stopped. Sighed sadly. "I don't know how to explain. I don't know if you would believe me."</p><p>She could say anything, and BF swore he wouldn't doubt it at all. He just wanted to hug her, tell her everything was going to be okay, even if it would be a lie.</p><p>"Hit us," said Pico.</p><p>And there was nothing that could have prepared them for what she would say, no warning she could give to ease the impact of her words.</p><p>"My dad put a spirit in you, Pico," she said. "He's a demon. And so am I."</p><p>Wow.</p><p>BF didn't know how to respond. Paranoia creeped into his skin and he condemned his body for it. GF wasn't a demon: demons were vicious and crude, they had horns and tails and danced in flames. That wasn't her.</p><p>Were demons even real? He made a promise to believe her, but he couldn't help and ask if she was kidding. But her face was completely solemn, her words precise.</p><p>"I was possessed, then?" Pico asked. "Like some horror movie shit? And your fucking dad did it?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>She laughed, humorless. For an awkwardly long time. Pico frowned.</p><p>"It's crazy! I know, I know. My mom is a demon too, actually. But she's never done anything like this, like he has."</p><p>Her smile left, her fingers thrummed anxiously against her mug. She paused. She didn't look at them, just stared out the window. A gentle wind swayed the curtains, grazed her bangs, and she pushed them away before taking a sip. BF and Pico stayed silent. When she spoke again, the sun had made its final climb into early morning, city birds starting to chatter and traffic beginning to pick up.</p><p>"He hasn't done anything like that in a while. I'm afraid he'll do it again, possess another person. He never gives me a straight answer when I ask him why he does it. I think this time he was mad I was spending time with humans, and...well. He's scary when he's mad."</p><p>BF would never be able to shake the memory: the maniacal laughter, the feeling of his heart pounding, his throat closing, the panic unfolding around him. Soulless eyes and GF's tears -- it made sense that a man capable of that was a demon. He wondered how someone so pleasant, so beautiful as GF could come from someone so, so evil.</p><p>"But, BF."</p><p>She turned around.</p><p>"You saved Pico. Not just anyone could have done that. You're something special, you know?"</p><p>BF didn't really agree -- he had no idea what he was doing back there; it was all a fluke. But her praise made him grin anyway. He couldn’t help but notice that the morning's gold bathed her in a way that made her look angelic, as ironic as that was.</p><p>"So, you're telling me," Pico said, "dude can sing, and the spirit goes bye-bye?"</p><p>They all laughed this time.</p><p>"Basically. Not many humans out there can use music like spirits and demons can. Song is powerful, you know. It's what made my dad open that club in the first place."</p><p>Her dad. Right. Their laughter and smiles turned into tense silence at the mention of him again. He was still out there somewhere, BF realized. What a demon could do he didn't really know, but whatever capabilities he had, with them there could be more victims, more innocent souls reaped. Perhaps even right now.</p><p>And BF had a thought. Not one a smart person would have, but it was a thought.</p><p>"I’m going to stop him," he heard himself say.</p><p>GF squealed and BF jumped; she reached out with warm hands and held his cold ones, a gentle, cozy hold, even as she shook them. BF was thrown back to last night, before the terror happened, how happy she was to spend time with him, to dance and have fun. And he realized that he wanted to see her like that all the time. If he had this weird, supernatural power to sing and free souls, he might as well use it -- and he would stop her father, even if it was the last thing he would do.</p>
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